


forget me not

by edotfaust



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 10:40:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12408780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edotfaust/pseuds/edotfaust
Summary: Dread bloomed in Julian’s stomach. Even if he was being overreactive to Asra’s cryptic words, he couldn’t stand spending another second in the tavern without knowing they were safe.





	forget me not

Asra had the good sense to disappear within a crowd quickly. Julian never truly understood how the witch managed to hide in plain sight when he dressed in frivolous clothes that blinded with their clash of colors.

At least Julian knew he intended to be found when Asra appeared in the tavern and caught his eye. It was a vicious type of satisfaction, to finally,  _ finally  _ catch the elusive subject of his vengeance. He could even ignore every fiber of doubt in his body when Asra made a beeline straight towards him, his face set in expressionless stone.

Before Julian could spit every barbed word on his tongue, Asra spoke, “Have you talked to my apprentice recently?”

_ The apprentice _ ? Julian paused, his brows furrowing in equal parts suspicion and confusion. His mind danced through memories of their soft lips and warm eyes before he could stop himself. If he had any intent on being honest with Asra, as contradictory as the idea was, he would not have the time to explain how they never had the chance to wander far from his mind.

Since his personal infatuation did not equate to the same level of communication as Asra intended, Julian shook his head. “I haven’t seen them since yesterday evening. They–”

“ – won’t be around.” Asra said firmly. Julian, for a fleeting moment, thought he saw the pain in the witch’s eyes, but he dismissed the possibility. Asra was incapable of committing to anything, never mind the wellbeing of his own apprentice. According to them, he was rarely home at their shop as of late.

“I didn’t realize they hired you as their keeper,” Julian said. He could taste the bitter backwash of his words lingering in his mouth. His mind wandered to the idea, the twisted memory, of how he had chased after Asra only to be emotionally deflected time and time again. How quickly the witch turned back around when it came to the apprentice.

_ His  _ apprentice, in a way. They chose him as willingly as he had chosen them. There was no devotion that wasn’t clearly and readily reciprocated, which was astonishing. Julian could bleed for them knowing that they would do the same on his behalf. Their love was intoxicating without being toxic.

“My apprentice needs me now more than ever,” Asra said. His words were shockingly raw, silencing Julian long enough for the magician to make his escape, a sure-footed ghost on an unknown mission.

Dread bloomed in Julian’s stomach. Even if he was being overreactive to Asra’s cryptic words, he couldn’t stand spending another second in the tavern without knowing they were safe.

He swept past the other patrons, ignoring the calls of his name and the call of security, and out into the street. Malak followed suit, a silent guardian in the dark, warm Vesuvia night.

* * *

The shop’s windows were pitch black.

For a fleeting moment, Julian considered what he would do if they were still at the palace. It wasn’t entirely impossible since they were still recruited by the Countess to capture him and ensure his execution. He hesitated in the shadows of an alley across the shop, considering his options.

Malak, from his perch on the shop’s sign, gave a delighted caw. Julian tensed, following the raven’s line of sight, and prepared to run at the sight of the armor of a Vesuvia city guard. Instead, he saw the flash of the familiar cloak of the apprentice in the streetlamp and sighed in relief.

With a cursory glance to ensure that no one else was in the street, Julian stepped out of the shadows, smirking.

“Your master gave me a scare this evening,” Julian said. The apprentice startled, lifting their bowed head to stare at Julian in wide-eyed shock. He took another step towards them, an apology for scaring them ready to break the sudden tension crawling in the air, and they stepped back nervously.

“Doctor Jules?”

Julian froze. His skin prickled with the fear the words brought him. He stared at them, silently begging for this cruel charade to end. They couldn’t be serious, staring at him with wide, confused eyes and calling him by a title they knew he despised.

“Did… I say something wrong, doctor?” The apprentice, of course, noticed his evident hurt. Yet where he would have expected them to step closer and ease his emotional strain with a kiss, they didn’t move. They only glanced behind him, towards their shop, nervous in the darkness of the street with a suspected murderer.

That’s what he was to them, now. He could see it in their face, the same face that he had traced countless times in adoration. They were frowning with the same mouth he tasted and craved endlessly, both in dreams and reality.

This was the apprentice, the love of his life, and a total stranger.

Julian remembered the rawness in Asra’s response. He could feel the shake of bitter tears in his voice when he said, “You don’t remember me, shopkeep?”

“I apologize, but I don’t remember you, doctor.” Julian almost flinched at the polite, formal tone the apprentice aimed to him. He felt like he was talking to a servant from his days at the palace’s resident physician.

“Please… you can call me Ilya.”

The apprentice seemed shocked at the desperation in Julian’s voice but nodded politely all the same. They didn’t have the same delight in their eyes when he first told them his real name when it was a whisper in their ear, when they were embracing each other in the small bed in Mazelinka’s home, sleep soaking their mumbled affectionate conversation.

“If you can excuse me, doctor… uh, Ilya, I have to return to my shop.” The apprentice walked past Julian with a polite nod in goodbye. He watched them unlock the door and slip inside their shop without a single glance back at him. 

He quickly turned and melted back into the mask of shadows the alley offered, feeling the memory of the apprentice’s confused look burning into his mind’s eye as sharply as the puncture of a sword. He could only walk a few more steps before sinking to his knees numbly.

The sound of their door closing was the final stab to his heart. He buried his face in his palms, his chest heaving with an effort to muffle the threat of tears burning his in throat.

He thought of the way they would run their hands through his hair to calm him, their voice the sweetest lullaby, and sobbed alone in the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> "Erin, why do you write so much angst?"
> 
> I love to Suffer™ y'all :)


End file.
